


The Heart is a Tender Beast

by oanja



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: M/M, Set during the Black Powder War and the beginning of Victory of Eagles, Tharkay pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 05:05:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13047090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oanja/pseuds/oanja
Summary: Yet, he could not deny Laurence, not after such a pronouncement, so he gave his word and hoped he would not lose something more vital in return.





	The Heart is a Tender Beast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lastwingedthing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastwingedthing/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide lastwingedthing! :)
> 
> Thank you to naatsue and greaseonmymouth for the beta, all remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> (a few of the dialogue lines are direct quotes from the books)

Life had impressed hard lessons into Tharkay from an early age. Everything he loved, he lost; if he ever expressed desire for something, it would be snatched from his grasp. He had learned never to show longing. Never to expose himself to pain."

He had thought he was good at that, but the way Sara’s father had announced her upcoming nuptials it seemed he had not been successful. He hated being pitied and the way Mister Maden looked at him, the way Sara didn’t meet his eyes, it burned his heart to a crisp, and to know Laurence was sitting there seeing this humiliation. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He would not betray his feelings.

Then there was the blunder on their way back to the palace and they were forced to flee. Tharkay had an idea of where they might lose their pursuers, so he set their course through narrow alleys and into the old catacombs. During the brief yet ever so precarious moment when Laurence hesitated, unwilling to trust Tharkay’s judgement, unwilling to go down the narrow passage, Tharkay felt it again. That sharp pain of not belonging, not being enough. Not being worthy of trust.

Yes, he had know Laurence did not trust him. Yes, he had made sure of it by his own conduct and yet, that pain, always there when he was forced to see that distrust in others. Each time it ate at him no matter how he tried to harden himself. Such a weakness for a mongrel bastard to have.

With urging, Laurence did follow him and he led them through and into safety, yet Tharkay saw each moment of hesitation, too finely tuned to mark such slights, even as he knew Laurence had cause for his actions and that he himself would not easily have followed any man through such narrow passages.

They made it out gasping for fresh air where Tharkay let Laurence help him up and took the offered support as they staggered away from the old rain gutter. Reaching the palace wall and then hauling Laurence over it depleted most of his remaining reserves and he crumpled into a heap as soon as they were safely tucked away behind an old fountain and drank deeply from it, side by side with Laurence.

They settled themselves to rest for a moment, Tharkay thought they should be relatively safe for now but it would be wise to gather their strength before making the last leg back to Temeraire and Laurence’s men in case they ran into yet another patrol.

Tharkay took out one of his knives and an old whetstone and began to sharpen the edge. The repetitive motion calmed his nerves and his heart after that last mad dash.

When Laurence broke the silence to offer his apology, to offer something akin to friendship it touched that raw part of him which reared up in alarm. So he disassembled, he argued and worse yet, he revealed too much, showed Laurence something of himself he did not wish any man to know of him.

When Laurence offered his hand and said: “If you can believe it so in this case, then give me your word, and take mine -- I hope I may in safety promise to give no less than full measure of loyalty to any man who gives me his, and I think I would be sorrier to lose you than I yet know.”

Perhaps it was telling how this was the closest he had gotten to an offer of friendship in years, how it hurt to let himself even hope… but no. There was no point in that. Yet, he could not deny Laurence, not after such a pronouncement, so he gave his word and hoped he would not lose something more vital in return.

Laurence gripped his hand with his straightforward honesty plain on his face and Tharkay swallowed with some difficulty and then rose to lead them back to the others.

***

The next day Miss Maden came to see them, and seeing her so soon after learning the truth of where they stood pierced him through again. The ache he felt was a new sort. One where he was forced to confront his own folly in ever imagining she might one day deign to marry him. No, he had nothing, he was no-one, what could he have promised to her, to her family for the honor of her hand?

The hurt and shame made him brusque in his manner towards her, so Laurence had to interfere in his own mild and faintly disapproving example and make introductions. The gold coin on her palm quickly drawing their attention away from her appearance and into grater matters.

As Laurence and his men gathered around the coin, Temeraire peering over the wall to get a look and as everyone was so diverted he looked at her and touched her sleeve fleetingly to stop her from leaving.

“I wish to apologise. I did not wish… the way I acted,” Tharkay paused, the words like dust in his mouth.

She saved him, graceful and kind, her smile small but genuine on her lips. “I do not blame you in the slightest Tenzig. I wish there had been some other way to break the news to you, but you are devilishly hard to reach by letter.”

Tharkay ducked his head at the gentle reproach, “Your father has always been kind to me, as have you and I was honest yesterday when I wished you happiness. It was unfair of me to ask you to wait for me, all those years ago. Promises of how I would make my fortune and be able to meet your father face to face and honestly ask your hand in marriage. You were wise to make other plans; as you see me standing before you now, as devoid of prospects as I was when I set out.”

She touched his hand fleetingly and pulled the veil over her face, leaving only her dark eyes visible. “I am not sorry I waited, Tenzig. I am not sorry for what we had and I hope some day you may again see me as a friend.”

“Goodbye Sara,” he bid her, as she walked away.

  
After that day, when he was forced to accept his final separation from Sara he felt adrift. He’d had this fantasy of marrying her sustaining him for years. It had been a slim hope to begin with, but he’d had it. Now he was truly alone, with not a person in this world who cared whether he lived or died.

Well, except perhaps Laurence, whom Tharkay had to admit truly was as honorable as he acted, someone who’s word you could trust. And Laurence had offered him apologies for his previous actions, offered his word in exchange for Tharkay’s. Promised his trust.

It baffled him and amazed him. His eyes kept returning to Laurence on their frantic flight out of Turkey, through Austria and into the German empire. Now that he was forced to see Laurence as he was, instead as a specimen of a specific kind of bully he was now unable to look away. He saw every small kindness Laurence offered, saw how it was both natural for him even as he always seemed aware of how each gesture would look to others.

He saw how deeply Laurence cared, about Temeraire, about his crew, about his duty, about England. The man was such a creature of deep emotion under all those proper manners and Tharkay found himself endlessly fascinated and drawn into his company more often than not.

It took him too long to admit he was dallying, he should have parted ways with Laurence soon after they were out of Turkey and yet he had lingered, held by sentiment and folly. There had been the convenient excuse of his wound, but it was all but mended now. Only a slight limp and a dull ache to remind him of the skirmish in the Turkish sauna.

So, he did as he had promised, and instead of melting into the familiar shadows, he went to find Laurence and tell him of his departure.

There was a notion in his head about what he should do once he departed, but it was terribly far fetched, so he dared not even to mention it to Laurence as not to rouse any false hopes.

When Laurence offered him his only seat and sat himself down on the carpet, Turkish style, Tharkay tried not to be moved, tried to shelter his heart, and yet it fluttered at this offered kindness.

The whole exchange went in the same vein, Laurence offering flattering comments about his usefulness and seemed genuinely sorry to see him go.

It was all too easy to offer “Who knows? We may meet again; the world is not after all so very large a place.”

This was as close he could come to hinting at his plan to go back to the Turkish mountains and try to ply Arkady and his feral friends into helping the English cause.

He offered Laurence a faint smile and gave Laurence his hand to shake one last time.

When Laurence took his and said, “I hope we shall and that I may of use to you in turn, someday.”

Tharkay held Laurence’s gaze for a moment, nodded and donned his hood. He felt deeply affected by Laurence’s words and felt a relief to leave his side.

There had been only honesty in Laurence’s eyes, as if he had meant every word.

Perhaps it was for the best he be off. It seemed he was weak as ever to the kindness of others and if he was honest with himself there was more to his yearning than the wish to call Laurence his friend.

This plan to recruit the ferals he had concocted was not taken up by any honest wish to aid the British, to help them keep their word about twenty dragons to help the Prussians. No he wished to impress Laurence and the impulse to keep Laurence’s attention felt deeply dangerous. Even before he had know Laurence to be honest and admirable, he had gone out of his way to annoy and aggravate him, like a schoolboy with his first infatuation.

It would not do, of course. Laurence was good and honorable. Even if he knew there were men who felt more than friendship towards other men, he would only look upon them on horror.

Tharkay cursed the stars for his hopeless heart that seemed to latch itself to the most unattainable people. At least with Sara he'd had the hope that one day he may have been worthy of her. There was no such hope with Laurence.

As Tharkay berated himself on his way out of the Covert, he did not notice how Laurence lingered at the mouth of his tent and watched him go with regret on his features.

***

Coming back after haring through the whole continent, hunting for Temeraire and his crew, trying to keep a pack of feral dragons from completely decimating the countryside as they went, had not cooled Tharkay’s feelings in the extent he had wished.

In every town and city he snuck into he asked after the huge black dragon and each time he got even the barest hint that they were on the right track he felt his heart lift and skip a beat. The elation short lived but honest and undeniable.

The only advancement of this arrangement for him was that his Durzagh had improved in leaps and bounds, as he tried to debate sense into Arkady almost daily. If he was honest, it was the promise of cows that kept the dragons with him. Each cow they ate on the way, stolen, and nothing Tharkay could do about it even if he had wished to, made their resolve harden. A cow to eat every day. Such riches British dragons had. They talked about cows a great deal to Tharkay’s dismay.

So they flew across the war torn Europe, fueled by ill begotten gains and the stories Arkady told the others to keep them amused. Most now featured Temeraire, showing great gratitude to their heroic rescue from the claws of French dragons. Tharkay felt sorry for having planted that seed into Arkady’s head, but hoped Temeraire would not mind too much once they caught up with him.

Finally they got real word in Berlin from a man who had actually laid eyes on Laurence some weeks prior and who could give an educated guess as to where the dragon might have headed. With this knowledge they headed towards the Baltic sea and Danzig.

“Oh, there are so many dragons!” One of Arkady’s ferals exclaimed as they drew close to Danzig. They were coming from the sea, Tharkay having convinced them it was the safest route and still it was a dizzying skirmish to get through the French lines and to the relative safety of the fortress.

Their arrival roused everyone in the keep, the cacophony so loud and the way the ferals were shouting and milling about it was hard work for Tharkay to climb down from the back of his dragon and to try locate Laurence at last.

Finally he lay eyes on the Aviator. Laurence looked well, it was obvious the fort was not yet short on rations and that there was clean water to spare, as Laurence was clean shaven and in well kept clothes.

In the dinn it was easy enough for Tharkay to sneak up on him, already gleeful of this chance to surprise Laurence.

“I hope we are not unwelcome,” he said and enjoyed the look of surprise and happiness that rose on Laurence’s face. He shook hands with him and Granby and explained his sudden appearance with ferals in tow.

It was a great boon to his pride to be so well received and thanked by someone he held in such high regard and it took some serious effort in his part not to let it show in his manner or speech.

Once the dragons had quieted down some, everyone in their place according to their internal rankings and Temeraire in deep discussion with Arkady and his lieutenants, Laurence invited him up to his rooms for some refreshment, which Tharkay was happy to accept.

Inside Tharkay caught sight of his own appearance in a hallway mirror and tried with some effort to push his wind swept hair back into order, only to force himself to stop. He had made a great point of not caring what others thought of his looks and he’d be damned if he started now for anyone. Even for Laurence that was too much.

“I must admit, I did not expect us to meet again so soon, but I am ever so happy to have you in my company again. I must admit Temeraire berated me quite thoroughly once he learned you had left without a word to him. I am afraid you are in for an earful once he learns you have returned. It sometimes surprises even me how quickly he decides people belong in his crew and how it had nothing to do with actual Aerial Corps regulations or official appointments,” Laurence said and poured them both wine, gesturing for Tharkay to sit down.

“He is a fearsome creature. I will of course apologise to him once I am able,” Tharkay said with a faint smile and offered a toast in to his health.

They sat there for a moment in silence and Tharkay sipped his wine, enjoying its rich flavour and warming effect on his chest. He could tell Laurence was dying to inquire about his journey, but was too polite to begin, so he took pity on Laurence and began.

“I think you will believe me quite mad when you have learned what I have endured during this time. Our original travels with the ferals was not enough to prepare me to how they would be without Temeraire there to keep them in line.”

***

They were of course separated again, soon after their reunion. Too soon, if anyone had inquired Tharkay's heart on the matter. Almost as soon as Tharkay had set foot again on English soil was he urged to make another journey to Turkestan to find other ferals, who might be persuaded to take up work for Britain. The need was immediately obvious to him, even as the officers made some effort in trying to keep their secret. Tharkay had half a mind to refuse, he was not sure he could with good conscience recruit dragons to a service that might end up being their death sentence even if they did not fall in battle.

Yet, he saw and understood the need and the ferals he had brought had not been allowed to go near the sick dragons, and he supposed there was great urgency to keep them healthy, so he agreed to leave after giving some quick lessons to some aviators in the Durzag language.

Once he returned from his journey with a few ferals in tow, he heard that Laurence had been sent to find a cure, in Africa of all places. He was sorry to have missed the man and admitted to himself he had been looking forward to spending a few evenings in his company before he was to depart again. He had accepted that his feelings for Laurence had not been a passing fancy, roused by his offer of friendship. No, it seemed no time or distance had cooled his regard for Laurence in the least. He had trained himself too well to carry an affection in solidarity during the years he had been courting Sara.

When he returned again, this time from the Pamirs, it was to learn worse tidings. Yes, Laurence had found a cure for the dragon plague, but had then passed on the cure to the French, thus condemning himself by an act of treason. He had been tried and sentenced while he’d been gone and was now imprisoned and Temeraire sent to the breeding grounds.

None of it made a lick of sense to him. He could understand Laurence’s reasoning for his actions and could not fault him for them. The Admiralty had acted with cowardice, dooming hundreds of dragons to death, as if they were mindless beasts. His lip curled up in disgust as he sat with Roland to hear the news.

It was still a rather bemusing state of affairs to be treated as a fellow Aviator. He had been awarded the rank of captain after his first trip to fetch ferals and still the gold bars on his coat felt heavier than they were in reality. Almost like a chain, binding him to a cause and a group of men and beasts in a way that he did not wholly find agreeable. He supposed the feral dragons felt something similar when they allowed some harness to be placed on them.

So she sent him to fetch Laurence from his imprisonment on the grounds that now that Bonaparte was at their door again, Temeraire could not be let to stew in some breeding ground when the defence of Britain was so obviously at stake.

Gherni agreed to take him, small enough that they could fly through Bonaparte's troops with only some difficulty.

Finding Laurence once he was in Dover proved to be more troublesome than he had anticipated, considering he had official papers that guaranteed he was to receive Laurence into his custody post haste.

The whole city was ruined and nobody seemed to be in charge or know where Laurence was, but he managed to find his way to the building where he was held and found the guards had already abandoned their posts outside Laurence’s door.

The look of surprise on Laurence’s face made Tharkay smile even as he ushered Laurence out of the room and to the street. There was no time to speak until they reached the courier Covert where he had left Gherni waiting. Even then the time was short and there was only so much time for exchanging pleasantries before they were aloft and away.

Not soon after they were forced to land again as Gherny spotted two French heavy-weights and had to take cover. She would not go aloft again, so they were settled for the rest of the day in that small thicket, as she refused to leave again until it was dark.

They went looking for food, not only for themselves but for Gherny too. Finding the chickens and the pig a stroke of good luck, Tharkay was not one to sneeze at.

As they prepared the food, Tharkay caught Laurence looking at him, short furtive glances, and he would color when Tharkay caught him looking. Laurence would not speak and Tharkay would not press the issue so they ate in silence. The chicken stringy and lacking seasoning, but deeply satisfying in its own right.

After their meal, Laurence went to stand near the edge of the woods and looked so lonely and forlorn that Tharkay could not bear such a display a moment longer and went to join him.

It was obvious what was weighing on the thoughts of someone so honorable as Laurence was. So he offered, “I might never have found you, of course,” already knowing Laurence would never take his offer.

They quibbled over morality and what it really meant for Laurence to think of as his duty. What it meant to be a traitor. It was hard to see how his words wounded Laurence, but he had to say his piece. There was no reason for Laurence to accept the judgement of his country. What he had done was right and Temeraire deserved better than to be so ill-used by people who did not accept his sentience.

“I have no right to honor it seems, I have let myself run wild, trusted myself above the authority of the Admiralty and if I am honest with you and myself, Tenzig, I must say, I do not regret my actions.” Laurence admitted, as if he was revealing some great sin, instead of making every sense a man should.

Tharkay tried not to let his hopes up at the use of his first name in such a manner and instead turned fully to face Laurence.

“If you regretted what you had done, you would not be the man I have grown to hold in high regard. You will not find me berating you for what you have done. I believe you have enough of such people already.”

Laurence looked pained, but there was something in his eyes that made Tharkay’s heart stutter in his chest.

Laurence extended his hand and rested it on Tharkay’s arm, hesitated and spoke, “I would not presume… what I mean to say is, Tenzig, I count you among my friends and you have stood by my side in situations where many would have abandoned their posts. You have been an immeasurably important in the defence of Britain and shown courage and intelligence that is a boon on any man or aviator. I wish to thank you now, for continuing to count me as your friend and even to voice your understanding of what I have done. I...”

Tharkay allowed the smile to rise on his features as Laurence rambled on, trying with some difficulty to express his regard for him. It was unthinkable that Laurence might perhaps feel something similar to what he himself felt for Laurence, but here they were; standing in a forest, surrounded by French troops, England on the brink of defeat, with Bonaparte at their doorstep. Laurence sentenced to death, now only pressed into service again for the greatest need and without his rank. It seemed that had been what was needed for the man to speak his mind.

“William, you need not say more. You will find that I am willing to follow you anywhere, if I may be of service to you, and you may count on it that I aim to save you from this sentence you labour under, are you willing or not. I have no plans of letting you perish, now that I am here and free to act upon my own conscience. You may find that you rank above the Corps, the admiralty and the King himself in my regard for them and none hold my loyalty as you do.”

Laurence was looking at him, his eyes wide and it seemed he was holding his breath. Again Tharkay revelled in his ability to surprise Laurence, to capture his attention, even if only momentarily before duty and service booted him off Laurence’s mind.

There really was not much else to do after such a declaration so he took a step closer to Laurence, closing the distance between them and pressed a kiss on his lips.

The grip Laurence still had on his arm tightened for a moment, before Laurence brought his other hand to cup Tharkay’s cheek with great tenderness. Now it was Tharkay’s turn to feel like all air had been pressed out of his lungs, the realization that Laurence was kissing him back almost enough to end him.

They pulled back only reluctantly and met each others eyes, both seeking something there to assure themselves of the genuine state of their feelings. Tharkay offered Laurence a thin smile and raised his hands to rearrange the lapels of Laurence’s coat to sit more comfortably on his neck. It was odd to see him out of the Aviator green.

Laurence copied his gesture and Tharkay felt him touch the gold bars on his shoulders with some reverence.

“It is getting dark. I am sure we can persuade Gherny to go aloft again. I hope we may yet continue our discussion once your business with the Corps has been set right,” Tharkay said, stepped out of arm's reach and turned to walk back to the waiting feral.

Laurence cleared his throat, let out a strangled laugh and followed him.


End file.
